


The Story Mill

by thesoldat



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Other, Romance, Work Up For Adoption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 04:26:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14845679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoldat/pseuds/thesoldat
Summary: These stories were started a long time ago that are still unfinished and have been largely abandoned over time. They're all up for adoption, if anybody wants. Otherwise, just gonna leave it here to clear my notes, and maybe in due time I'll eventually come back to finish one of them.First short stories / drabbles were written in 2013, latest ones are up to early 2018, pre-IW during the fan theory phase after all the teaser trailers were released. Older works were mostly Clintasha, but it'll branch out to other couplings such as BuckyNat and OCs in later works.





	The Story Mill

**Author's Note:**

> Year Written: 2013  
> Pairing: Clintasha, brief mention of the rest of the team.  
> Context: Set after the battle of New York, when the Avengers are all living in the Avengers tower. Natasha is struggling to deal with how she truly feels as new company comes along in the Tower.

She's dying to live; yet, she's dying to die. And if he hasn't taken notice of this peculiar, incongruous fusion of behavior in the way she holds herself these days, then she must be that great of a pathological liar to dive right beneath his scrutinizing gazes without being questioned.

  
Natasha's disappearances start out scattered, a little here and a little there. But disappearing is a normalcy, and neither of them care. Plus, she talks.  
  
They sometimes spend hours together, one of them droning on and on about something worthy enough to be made conversation, and the other listens. She rests her hand over her midriff most of the time, pitching in on certain points as Clint talks, otherwise staring into the far beyond of the view from the roof and laughing - at the same time, grimacing - when needed.  
  
It's when he doesn't think to watch her that she pushes on, absenting herself more around the Tower, avoiding conversations, baring bruised halos underneath her eyes that barely seem to be there but are. She's like a ghost, coming and going without going noticed. Her footsteps barely leave impressions in the carpet, even when her body weight moves to the balls of her feet whenever she walks hunched over.  
  
Nobody notices the minute changes in her routine, those that gradually and eventually lack routine anymore.  
  
She's dying to live; yet, she's dying to die. For they are rather conflicting sides to one same coin, she is willing to admit that the unsatisfying combination of the two defines the person she hates the most. Herself.  
  
But he loves her anyway. 

 


End file.
